“Why don’t you ever wear the green suit anymore?” asked Mrs. Claus, putting her hand on Santa’s chest. “I love the way you look in the green,” she said in a voice that meant she wanted to be on the naughty list.

“It’s a tradition now. Think of the children,” Santa replied, stroking his white beard in a way that he hoped made him look thoughtful.

“It’s all that Coca-Cola’s fault. Ever since they did all that advertising with you in red, that’s all people think about. Red, red, red. What about white? That’s a nice Christmas-y color.”

Santa sighed, “No dear, It has to be red. Someone might stab me or something if they didn’t see the red.”

“But the elves wear the green!” Mrs. Claus pointed out.

“That’s right, elves! Not Santa. People expect it.”

“I just miss it. Couldn’t you put on the green just for me?”

Santa looked her in the eyes. She had a twinkle in her eye that made it hard to ignore her request. But he couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” said Santa with a sad voice.

“But why?!”

“I just…” Santa hesitated. “I…running this place isn’t cheap, you know. Giving away all these presents? It’s not a good business model, dear. I had to do something or Christmas would have been ruined. It’s Coca-Cola okay? I signed a contract. I have to wear red. It’s part of the deal! And if I drink a Pepsi?!”

Like this:

I suppose it all started with the snow. You see, it was a very special kind of snow. A snow that made the happy happier, and the giddy even giddier. A snow that’d make a homecoming homier, and natural enemies, friends, natural. For it was the first snow of the season. And as any child can tell you, there’s a certain magic that comes with the very first snow, especially when it falls on the day before Christmas.

The children placed the top hat on the head of the snowman.

No one expected anything to happen, least of all the magician Hinkle. But with a flourish, the snowman came alive and said happily, “Happy Birthday!”

It’s difficult to judge what happens inside the mind of a sentient snowman. Perhaps Frosty saw his life flash before his eyes. Or perhaps he was overfilled with the Christmas spirit. Or perhaps the dark lord Baphomet, whose soul had been captured inside the hat by a wizard long ago, woke up from his ensorcelled sleep to find himself inside a crudely shaped, snow-based body with a group of defenseless children nearby.

The children watched in horror as Frosty placed his palms on the ground and began a ritualistic chant. An army of snow creatures rose from the ground and ripped the poor magician limb from limb. A spray of crimson covered the snow, bringing a festive hint of Christmas.

The snow army turned on the children and chased them down the street as Frosty sang:

Frosty the SnowmanHas a demon for a soulWith a corncob pipe and a button noseHe was imprisoned long agoFrosty the SnowmanMade the children scream and prayAnd were they surprised whenBefore their eyesA magician he did flayThere must have been some magicIn that old silk hat they foundFor when they placed it on his headHe summoned monsters from the groundFrosty the SnowmanWas alive as he could beAnd the children sayYou should run awayOr scream for eternity

I was single and this hot girl was all over me at the bar. Like way out of my league. I didn’t even have to approach her, she started hitting on me.

She said she had a place we could fool around nearby. Who turns that down?

When we got there I almost bailed. There was a scary looking fence covered in strange symbols and black dried-on gunk. Plus, there were bloody heads on spikes all around. It wasn’t even close to Halloween, but whatever. Maybe they just didn’t clean up their decorations. I’d left Christmas lights out all year once before. Who was I to judge?

So anyway, we did the deed that night, and in the morning she asked me to stay for breakfast. She warned me I was going to have to listen to some crazy stuff. But she said it was worth it for the food.

I thought about leaving. But she does this all with no shirt on. And she’s…well, nevermind. I’m sure you can guess the kinds of thing she was doing.

I went to breakfast. And it was fucking delicious. Piles of bacon, eggs, pancakes. Whatever you can think of, they had it. They even had breakfast pizza.

This guy spoke. They called him the Master. The Master was an intense guy who looked like he had seen horrors beyond imagining. Anyway, he rambled on about all kinds of crazy stuff like demons, self-flagellation, and drinking the blood of the elder gods, but I wasn’t paying much attention.

The chick asked me to stay the rest of the day and fool around some more. I called in sick. Maybe I should have said no, but you can’t imagine how hot this girl was.

So I stayed. And we screwed. And we had pizza for lunch and supper. And I stayed the night again.

I don’t want you to misunderstand, I had an inkling of what I was getting myself into. I knew these people were crazy. But the sex was mindblowing and I wasn’t going to say no. Within a week I had joined up.

Jessie, that was her name, stopped sleeping with me at that point, but I figured that would happen. She was just a recruiter. I knew how this sort of thing worked. By then, I didn’t care.

I was in too deep.

Now I know what you’re thinking. Human sacrifice is evil. It is. I don’t deny that.

And summoning literal demons from the hell pit to eat infants? What can I say? I never believed the demons were real. But after you’ve seen it once it’s really not that bad.

I almost left when I found out my entire family had been transformed into monstrous spider beasts, but where was I going to go at that point?

It was a bit shocking when I found out that we had installed dark simulacrums at every level of government and we were poised to transform the entire country into a demonic hellscape. But honestly, it wasn’t going to be much of a change.

The dark prince, Azvales, took most of the women to be his brides, but he left Jessie. Turns out she’s a succubus, but I don’t mind. We still screw occasionally even though she absorbs a bit of my life force each time. She tries not to take too much, which is nice because I get to keep living instead of spending eternity in a realm of neverending torment. I thought she was being kind, but then she told me my soul is delicious and she wants to savor it.

This is my life now. It’s not perfect, but I’m happy enough.

Sometimes the tentacles coming out of the toilet while you’re trying to go get pretty annoying. And the undying screams of the banshee queen can make it hard to sleep. And the lashings from the abyssal whip can get excruciating, especially when the scabs that form contain the souls of the damned crying for release.

I don’t believe most of what we preach here.

I could do without the mandatory time in the chair of thorns. I could go either way on the blood pacts and nightmares and ichor from the showerhead. I’m not really partial to the imp who clings to the ceiling of my chamber cackling whenever he sees me naked. And frankly, I’m not a huge fan of abominations from other dimensions always asking me if I’m going to eat my dessert.

Like, fucking hell, Xylork, get your own fucking pudding.

Anyway, I’m sure you’re wondering why I stay. But trust me, I wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t something in it for me.

When the dark forces consume the living, I’ll get to choose my own method of death. I’ve seen leviathans create portals to hell in the rectums of unbelievers. I’ve seen thousands of demons and winged beasts pour out, and believe me, it’s not a pretty picture. That’s not the way I want to go out. On the other hand, having my life sucked out of my dick seems like a pretty good time.

But that’s not everything.

I don’t have to pay rent. I have a place to stay, free of charge, in exchange for just a bit of work. It’s really not that hard to clean up bile and the husks of recently opened egg pods and pools of demonic semen.

Also, and this is really the big thing for me…I know I mentioned it earlier, but I can’t stress this enough: they have free pizza at every meal.